From the cockpit of my silver R8 convertible, I was
“Not The Doctor” on call, I drove at dusk the 89A from Sedona on my way to Flagstaff.
The failing sun brushing against the red rock was so beautiful,
As "Jagged Little Pill" blared and bounced off the canyon walls echoing “Mary Jane”
The diminishing daylight gave way to the cool of the “Perfect” night,
And the stars began their delicate lattice song of arrival,
Yet incomparable to the grandeur of the full moon
That rose in my view elevated along side of me, then "Right Through Me."
Its celestial wonder, its luminous glow, its dimpled smoothness, captivating.
Quickly reminded I was driving, my car veered to the left shoulder,
Alanis declaring "Wake Up", I corrected back on the highway.
My eyes re-fixed on that wondrous stellar promontory.
This lunar object, on which many experts claim mental unrest,
Had me "Head Over Feet" as I continued to stare, then unconsciously drool.
I fancied how it would feel to be on that great orb, then recollected, and was “Forgiven” of
My childhood wish to become an astronaut.
I could see her face laughing as she looked back past her voluptuous *** protruding out the window.
From the back seat of the Range Rover, brunette, woo-hooing her young adulthood to the world.
She was beautiful, liberated, spontaneous, uninhibited, and likely inebriated; I was infatuated.
She looked into my lustful eyes; I had one hand on the wheel and one "Hand in My Pocket"
I ruined my jeans; then chastised myself, “You Oughta Know” better.
No other night since has carried with it a moon so lovely as the one I saw that evening;
Isn't it "Ironic"